


Imekari

by olliolli_oxenfree



Series: bullinquisitorweek [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Other, Trespasser DLC, and this kids is why you get your amputation immediately after you go mirror hopping, dark bioware give me the da4 timeline so i can know when their son is born, everyone else appears/gets mentioned at least once, the entire trevelyan family is a mess and i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8376322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olliolli_oxenfree/pseuds/olliolli_oxenfree
Summary: Day seven of Iron Bull x Inquisitor Appreciation Week:Post Inquisition"Kidnap is really just another form of adoption, right?" - Inquisitor Kendra Trevelyan, 9:44 Dragon





	

**Author's Note:**

> Missed day six since travel time cut more into my writing than I thought it would, and as fun as Bull and dragonborn!Kendra running around Skyrim is this one has to do with the rest of the series.
> 
> Might do the au day later on, but for now here's day seven.

Kendra sat in the rotunda beneath the library, on the couch still pulled back from the wall where Solas’ final mural sat unfinished. The Guardian of Mythal, bowing to her. She had interrupted its progress to ask what she could expect from Corypheus. Solas guessed he would lash out after she had stolen the power of the Well from his grasp, and lashed out he had. The sky had burned and the Mark had flared to her bicep. During the following battle she had a fleeting thought, _why had she never tried to use the_ orb? Because, while it amplified the magic of the Mark enough to open a rift _in_ Corypheus, the power that coalesced would either shatter her or the artifact. She refused to break.

That was two months ago, and still Solas had not returned.

_“No matter what comes, I want you to know you shall always have my respect.”_

The inside of her cheek was raw from worrying during her internal struggle of instinct and the trust she had come to place in her circle. Even Blackwall—or Rainier, they still hadn’t figured out the name thing—had been welcomed back with a full pardon.

Kendra sighed, stood, and got to work. It had been two months. If he returned, she would help him set it right. She pushed the couch back against the wall, gathered the papers scattered on the desk and set them in a pile at the center. The books she took upstairs and filed away with Dorian’s help. After some deliberation she took the shard to Josephine’s office. Give visiting dignitaries something shiny to look at.

Moving Solas’ things around was the highlight of the next few weeks. With the world saved and getting itself back in order, things were _boring_. She and Bull had been invited home to Ostwick, and without the threat an ancient darkspawn Magister breathing down her neck she didn’t have anything to distract from _how much_ she missed the Marches. Josephine and Leliana, Cullen rather as Leliana would soon be off to Orlais to be ordained, could keep things running without her. The Inquisition had been founded to discover the truth behind the death of Divine Justinia. Kendra had become Inquisitor to defeat Corypheus. Aside from relief efforts, the Inquisition was no longer needed.

“Power connected to the name, not the title,” Cole muttered as they strolled the gardens. “We can still help.”

“Come visit Kirkwall!” Varric threw down a winning pair in a game of Diamondback. “Keep your gloves on and no one will recognize you. Be a _person_!”

“From what I’ve seen so far, your family’s a mess.” Bull’s head rose from her lap with a grin after she read her mother’s letter aloud. “I _have_ to know if that goes for all of them.”

It did, but she didn’t need to tell him that until _after_ a tour of the Free Marches.

When the Exalted Council was summoned, she still didn’t know what to do with the Inquisition. It was almost a relief when the Qunari attacked. Almost.

Kendra gripped her upper arm, pain fading down and through her fingers. She needed to stand. Move. The Eluvian in front of her was out of the question, but the one she’d come from would be neutral ground for a while more. After that… Who knew? Elves? Wolves? Followers of the Viddasala? In a few moments the Crossroads would be closed to her.

Gathering herself, she tried to rise. Once. Twice. Managed it on the third.

She wobbled a few times. She’d underestimated just _how much_ energy it took to keep the Mark under control. She couldn’t remember… Had her arm felt like this before the Conclave? It was sore, but her fingers curled when she willed them to.

Cole caught her when she stumbled out of the mirror. “The damn path closed the minute you passed through it. What happened?” Dorian demanded. They had made a bet some years ago after relocating to Skyhold, a gold piece for which of them could get Solas to reveal his age first. Most of their attempts lacked any pretense of subtlety.

“We were _so wrong_ about how old Solas is.”

Cole helped her to the ground as Dorian fussed over her. Her legs had gotten her to her goal and now refused to work. Bull lifted her in his arms for the trek back to Val Royeaux.

“What happened?” Dorian asked again.

“I can tell them.”

“Please.” Kendra curled towards Bull’s shoulder as Cole spoke. She wanted to stay alert for the possibility of another attack, _and_ the fact Cole would have known Solas was the Dread Wolf from the moment he joined the Inquisition, but a much bigger part of her just wanted to be _done_. It was also proving very hard to focus with Bull’s heart beneath her ear. Before Cole was finished she had fallen asleep.

“So that’s the plan, then?” whispered Dorian, “Kill Solas?”

“No. Solas is her friend. She wants to help.”

* * *

“Are you serious?”

“The Exalted Council still expects an answer, my lady,” Josephine almost frowned, Kendra’s one sign she was not alone in her sentiments.

“They can’t wait _two hours_ for a healer to look at this?”

“We have delayed them as long as we can,” Leliana explained. “But they have only been told that you have had a bad turn of health. With you appearing to be in such fine condition…”

Cullen entered, shuffling a stack papers under his arm. “Sorry for the delay.”

“Where have _you_ been?”

“Deploying the Wardens. There’s trouble out of a dwarven settlement in the Deep Roads.”

“Darkspawn?” Kendra asked.

“We don’t know. We only received word of dwarves fleeing to the surface.”

Kendra’s interest perked. “So it could be anything?”

Cullen sensed the danger. “Not anything! We sent the Wardens in case of darkspawn, but—!”

“Inquisitor,” Leliana cautioned, “the Exalted Council can only wait so long. Orlesians are used to such affairs taking a few days to start, but the delegates from Ferelden—”

“Can wait,” Kendra decided.

“Inquisitor Trevelyan—!” Josephine tried. Kendra was already out the door.

She caught up with the Wardens while they were still in sight of the city.

“It’s a few hours’ ride,” one explained. “The report arrived on foot, so it’s already been a few days. Might be a clean-up instead of a rescue. Especially if ‘spawn are involved.”

“Good stuff to find if it’s a clean-up, though,” another commented.

An hour into the march she asked, “What will you do after the Council?”

“Depends on what you decide, my lady,” a burly woman with a mop of blonde hair answered. “If the Inquisition stays, we’ll still be at your disposal. If it doesn’t,” she shrugged, “there’s still towns that need rebuilding. Families reuniting. We’ll keep busy. I don’t much fancy going back to the way things were, what with so many people needing our help. It’s good to be making a difference even without the Blights.”

“I thought the Wardens kept themselves separate from politics?”

One behind her laughed. “The Fereldan Wardens haven’t been separate from politics since the two remaining ones took the throne. It’s helped Ferelden far more than hindered it these past years.”

Kendra looked over her shoulder. “ _...Dedrick?_ ”

“The same.”

She hardly recognized him. He looked _better_ than he had as Mayor, despite the lines of age and sun on his face. Amazing what honest work and honest living could do for a man. “When Queen Lanni rebuilt the Wardens, she also rebuilt the army of Amaranthine. Practically hand-picked them all herself. Stories out of there the first few months after the Blight, it’s no wonder the entire Arling loves her. One word from her and they’d pick Ferelden up and move it if they had to.”

How had she _still_ not met the Warden?

When they reached the settlement, three things became clear very quickly. First and most important, there were still dwarves in the Deep Roads. Second, it was not darkspawn they would be facing. Third, it was giant spiders.

Of _course_ it was giant spiders.

Giant, taller-than-Bull spiders and _sweet Maker why had she come?_

She fell back with the teams that searched the rooms for survivors _after_ the arachnids were taken care of. A dwarf cried out to them, “I think there’s more in here!” Kendra threw open the door before she had a chance to think: more _survivors_ or more _spiders_?

Survivors.

A group of seven or eight, all younger than twenty.

“Out the passage!” She grabbed the two youngest and kept them out of the way as the rest trampled from the room. “Here,” she shouted to the dwarf that had flagged her down, “take them and—”

A spider dropped into the middle of the floor. Kendra whirled, two blades thrown and another two in her hands before one of the children finished screaming. It shuddered as one of the runes activated. Flames burst to life along the spider’s body and the horrid smell of burning hair and flesh filled the tunnel. Kendra pulled a strip of cloth from around her neck and tugged it over her nose and mouth. “Keep to the ground!” she shouted and went for her daggers. One came out easy, the other she had to set her foot to the beast’s eyes and _pull_. The spider _screamed_ , and holding two daggers in both hands she set the blades and ripped out from the middle of its face.

“Inquisitor!” a Warden grabbed her shoulder. “Inquisitor, there’s too many of them! We need to go _now_!”

There wasn’t much for it. Kendra turned and ran.

All in all, they managed to save about fifty dwarves. Plus the few that had managed to escape before the tunnels became infested, which put them at about seventy. They were good. Most supplies and people had already been grouped together. “There’s a surfacer village a few miles from here,” one dwarf explained. “Anyone smart enough to get out of the tunnels will know to go there. We may not get the warmest welcome, but our trade brings in enough gold that they’ll let us reorder ourselves.”

“Inquisitor, you’re on fire.”

“Huh? Oh.” A patch of her coat was still smoldering. She put it out with a pat.

While the Wardens worked on a way to keep the infestation underground, Kendra helped the dwarves load everything onto carts.

“Hold on,” Kendra said once the dwarves had declared everything as ready as it could be, “who’s taking them?” The two children she had pulled aside in the fight weren’t yet seen to.

A round of uneasy shifting circled through the dwarves.

“You might not have noticed,” one of the adults explained in a low tone, “the brand doesn’t show well on their skin. They’re _casteless_ ,” he answered Kendra’s blank look.

“So?”

“They _don’t exist_.”

“...They’re standing _right there_.”

“Aye. But, none of the other casteless made it out. They’re free to follow, if they wish, but if they can’t keep up…”

“You’re serious.” The dwarf looked as though that should have been obvious. “You’re _fucking_ serious?” Pushing him out of the way, Kendra knelt by the two children. Up close, she could see what must be the brand. A tattoo that resembled an exaggerated S, black and hard to see against their hazelnut skin.

The _fuck_ was wrong with dwarves?

“What are your names?”

“Barta,” one said in a small voice. She squeezed the other’s hand. “Reta.”

“How old are you?”

“...Four.” Maker.

“Is your sister the same age?”

“Yes.”

A muttering rose up behind them. Barta shifted guiltily. “It’s okay. We’re fast. We can keep up.”

“Seems like it wouldn’t be much fun following them.”

Reta removed her hand from Barta’s grip and signed. She was deaf? Damn it, she didn’t know this method. “What did she say?”

“We’re used to it.”

Fuck that.

“If you want, you can come with us,” Kendra pointed with her thumb to a cart where a couple of Wardens wounded in the skirmish sat. “Plenty of room.”

Both their eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yup.”

Reta signed something else.

“Sorry, I don’t… Can you teach me?”

Barta repeated the sign. “‘Thank you!'”

* * *

Kendra was mobbed by her advisors when she and the Wardens returned that night.

“If it was darkspawn—”

“—half the city in an uproar—”

“—about to send soldiers out looking for you—”

“—if it got out you _left_ —”

“—what are those?”

“Kids,” Kendra told Leliana after handing Cloud Dancer’s reins to a stable girl. She shook them awake long enough to scoop one up in each arm. “Dwarves didn’t want them. _Assholes_.”

Josephine looked scandalized. “ _Inquisitor!_ ”

Leliana sighed. “Leave it be, Josie. They are considered casteless, no?” Right. Leliana had been to Orzammar. “Though, from what I recall, all the dwarves who survived the attack are now considered casteless as well, for going to the surface.”

What was _wrong_ with dwarves?

Cullen shook his head. “Everyone’s been up waiting for you. Now that you’re back we’ll…” he glanced at the clock in the square. Midnight. “Resume tomorrow morning, I expect.”

“Yes. We shall finally have these negotiations underway,” Josephine bustled off.

Most of her circle were awake, as well.

“Finally!” Dorian headed for the stairs as soon as he saw her. “Do tell me what happened in the morning, will you?”

Rainier grunted, throwing cards on the table between him and Varric. “Cassandra’s been in a state. I’ll let her know you’ve returned.”

“It’s not good form to storm off like that if your hand’s bad, Hero!”

Bull glanced quizzically at the twins in her arms.

“We’re parents now.”

“Okay.”

Bless him.

“They can use my bed, yeah?” Sera offered. “Now you’re back, there’s Friends.”

Kendra laid them on the mattress, needing to detangle Reta’s fist from her hair once she did so. She stood back and realized how _small_ they were, gravitating towards each other in the middle of the bed, in _Val Royeaux_ …

Cole appeared in the doorway. “Breath in the darkness, refuse to be separated. Scared but together. I’ll watch them.”

That was _almost_ enough.

“Come get me if they wake up.”

“Yes.”

Better.

“So,” Bull asked when she returned to the foyer, “what’s the plan for them?”

She hadn’t thought about it beyond _take them back to Val Royeaux_. “Someone’s bound to adopt them,” she rolled her head back on the couch. “I’m sure Leliana knows _somebody_ who’s been wanting a couple kids. Varric might be able to ask around, so long as my name’s kept out of it.” Anyone only willing to take them in to score favor from the Inquisitor was the kind of person to be kept far away.

“Turning in?”

“Nah,” Kendra waved him ahead. “Gonna enjoy the quiet.”

She almost dozed off twice before a twinge in her shoulder made her fully alert. She rubbed at her neck, twisting it to pop the joints. Had she pulled it during the fight?

_magic pulling at her bones flesh tears away but he is not Corypheus and the magic is his the tug for the Mark alone, her arm throbs when a weight is taken an ache sets in the absence deeper than even a god can heal_

Kendra yanked her glove off. The veins stood out, and there was a spot of skin as shiny as a burn scar where the Mark used to be. Her hand and arm responded to her commands when she picked up a couple darts and threw them at the board.

She was fine.

_You’re fine._

“I’m fine.”

Kendra managed to squeeze another week of waiting from the Exalted Council. She was kept busy with the twins, learning the signs they used and gearing them for survival outside the Deep Roads. The _worst_ of it was bypassing Vivienne to find them a tailor who excelled in Marcher clothing. She saw the outfits Orlesians made their children dress in. She wasn’t _cruel_.

She awoke one morning in the grey light before dawn. It took her a moment of confused blinking to figure out why she was on her back. A testing stretch, and she became aware of blood on the sheets and pangs in her abdomen. Her period, then. Except…

No.

Not that.

For a handful of years, since before the Conclave, she’d been taking a tea to stop her periods and keep her decidedly not-pregnant. So why…?

She rolled to the side, and her shirt peeled away from the sheets.

What the—? Kendra touched her shoulder, and pain exploded down the length of her arm. Muffling a cry she lurched up, reached with her right arm for her lap where her hand...her hand...

Andraste’s mercy, her _hand_.

Flesh sagged off the bone. Veins hung down like so many strings, black and purple and pulsing with each thud of her heart. She had a brief, hysterical thought of _maybe it still works_ , and a tendon twitched. The skin on her wrist started to droop.

“What the _fuck_?”

Bull was up.

* * *

The healers arrived before Kendra’s shock wore off. She agreed to their directions, let them cut the shirt away from her skin and examine the ravaged flesh of her shoulder. They tested the feel of the rest of her arm, and she merely nodded when they explained how some of the upper portion might still be saved. She remained docile until one of them ordered her to drink a suppressant.

“No.”

The healer blinked owlishly. “Young lady,” Bull winced in sympathy at the stubborn light it kindled in Kendra’s eyes, “we gain nothing by postponing the inevitable. This will dull any pain you are currently experiencing, as well as during the proce—”

“ _No._ ” Firmer this time as she came back to herself.

“She doesn’t know you, doc,” Bull explained. She _might_ trust him not to kill her, but anything that involved dulling her senses or knocking her out for the operation? Might as well save Kendra the trouble and stab himself in the chest.

“Very well!” he snapped. “Agatha, get her a cloth to bite. Bertrand, we’ll need you to pin her legs.” A young man came forward. He looked more accustomed to life in a butcher’s shop than a healer’s tent. A field medic risen to a position in the city after the war as recognition of his talents. He would be wasted under his current leadership. “Now, lie back and we’ll get started.”

Kendra placed a careful hand on her shoulder. “...Not yet.” The healer squawked in indignation.

“This is only going to get worse, boss.”

“I know.” She looked at him, and it _hurt_ that he couldn’t fix the pain there. “I’m not asking for a day, just...not yet.”

“Why the wait?”

She shrugged, flinched, and mumbled something incoherent.

They waited.

Kendra soon grew restless, bouncing her leg then standing and pacing the room. Bull fought the urge to put her back on the table and force her down when muscle fell from her lifeless arm to the floor. The fingers on her shoulder twitched, craving a dagger to spin between them. The door burst open.

“Kendra!” Darrell stood in the open arch.

Bull was sent to wait in the hall. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” This was her shit to go through. When she needed him, he’d be there.

“Ready?” Darrell asked, clasping her hand.

She laughed weakly. “ _Fuck_ no.” The cloth was placed in her mouth.

Bull crossed his arms and listened just outside the door. Each muffled scream made his nails dig harder, until even blunted they were drawing blood. _Damn it._ She was his _kadan_ , she was in pain, and he was stuck here unable to _do_ anything. It took several tries for him to notice something tugging on his pants.

Who let the _kids_ back here?

Barta held fast to his pant leg, clutching tight to her sister’s hand with the other. She tugged again after noticing she had his attention. “Yes?” Instead of answering, tears filled her eyes. Reta broke their grip to sign.

_Will_ —damn, he didn’t know that word— _be okay?_

_One more time?_ Bull signed.

_Will ---- be okay?_

Will…?

Oh.

“Yeah,” voice rough, he knelt down to pull them both into a hug. “Don’t you worry. Your _tama’s_ gonna be just fine.”

Darrell staggered out of the room some time later.

“How is it?”

“I need to go throw up in a rose bush,” he _was_ peaky at the corners of his mouth and eyes, “but she’s fine. Healers are getting rid of...well…”

“Could you take them?” Darrell glanced down, and his eyes widened.

“Oh, oh _sh_ — Yeah. Come on, you two.” He picked them both up, walking towards the grounds. During their time in Ostwick Darrell had proven to be the favorite with the next generation of Trevelyans, tumbling with the younger ones and giving advice and a helping hand to the oldest. Already he had drawn a few words from Barta. Kendra wouldn’t have trusted them more with herself.

She was still awake, despite appearances. Breathing too shallow, eyes moving under the lids to follow the sounds of the retreating healers. They opened when his shadow fell over her.

“Hey, _kadan_.”

“Hey.” She made to rise, but gave up readily when he motioned her back. Her head turned to look at the bandages. The healers managed to save almost everything above the elbow.

“How you holding up?”

“Feel like shit.” She tried to shrug and hissed. “Could be worse.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Could be Solas once Cassandra sees this.” Could be Solas now _he’s_ seen it.

“Not sure if this will help.”

She glanced at him. “Am I coherent enough for this?”

“Has nothing to do with the Council.”

Kendra pushed her hair back with a sigh. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t mean to frighten you, but the kids just called you ‘Mom’.”

The grip on her hair tightened. “Oh _no_ ,” she groaned, but her bubbling laugh meant she didn’t find it a problem at all.

* * *

The Exalted Council waited another three days after the operation. How _generous_.

Kendra woke alone. She asked Bull for this, to prove to herself she could make it through a morning without help. Still, she was positive he was nearby enough to call if things proved too much. Provided Cole didn’t get there first.

It was a few minutes before she sat up. She took a deep breath, held it, and released.

“Okay.”

Her pants came on easy, but it took some maneuvering to take advantage of gravity and the use of teeth on the collar to get her shirt on and buttoned. Makeup was easier. Though she favored her left, the fingers of her right hand were just as dexterous when it came to fine skills. She’d just have to forgo winged eyeliner for a bit. Combing she usually did one-handed. In the end, she settled on hiding the weapons she could no longer use without her left arm. Otherwise she felt naked. She'd have to get used to it, just not today.

She took a final look in the mirror, straightening her outfit and smoothing back a stray lock of hair.

“Okay.”

“Seconds!” Barta demanded, holding out her bowl.

Kendra reached for the serving ladle before Bull could and stirred it enough to break the skin.

“Okay.”

“We will be ready in a few moments, Inquisitor.” Leliana left to deliver her speech as Divine Victoria.

“I still cannot believe you wish to do this.”

“I know,” Kendra tugged the glove down with her teeth. “I can’t believe I’m giving up that throne.”

“Is a throne _really_ —”

“We took four days to kill the Vinsomer, Cassandra. _Four days_.”

“I remember.” A scattering of applause could be heard beyond the doors. “I must go take my place.”

Kendra walked to an end table. On it rested Divine Justinia’s decree. The Inquisition, everything, had stemmed from the words written by a dead woman.

_Not everything,_ joked Solas’ wry voice.

Was she right, to be doing this? The Inquisition employed as many as it helped. Networks upon networks spanned Thedas.

_And look what that got you,_ mused her own voice at the back of her head, _You knew attending the Conclave was a bad idea._ And if she hadn’t? Would someone else have ended up with the Mark, or would Corypheus have never been interrupted? If someone else had the Mark, could they have done what she'd done?

What was truly awaiting her back at Skyhold, other than a decorative chair?

_Spies,_ came her voice again, _more now than there were before. Being watched and coddled by those who mean well. Even if you destroyed everything, started from the ground up…_ No. This was better than Skyhold. There were still the people she had employed before the Conclave, a few agents from the Inquisition she could hire from her own pocket. Sutherland and his company, for one. She snapped and they jumped.

Kendra picked up the writ and waited for her cue. She stood at attention when the doors opened and strode forward for her last act as Inquisitor.

_Okay._


End file.
